alison bruce... author

Monday, August 4, 2014

On a hot summer's nightWould you offer your neckTo the wolf with the red roses?
Meatloaf

It was a hot summer night and the ride to Sheffield had produced an very unladylike sweat. Not sweat, I mentally corrected myself. "Horses sweat. Men perspire. Ladies glow." I was glowing in rivulets down my neck.

Mother, of course, was dry as a bone. She removed the scarf that kept her hair perfectly quaffed and tweaked the curls that had got loose. Everyone said that she didn't look old enough to be our mother. But then everyone wanted to stay in her good graces so she would play the piano when the band took a break.

My sister was not with us. She was training with the Auxiliary Territorial Service. I had mixed feelings about this. I was proud of her, of course. She was off doing her bit for the war effort. I was envious. She was off, away from mother. Though for my sister, mother wasn't as big a problem. She was mother's darling. I was also nervous, not so much for her sake as mine. This was the first dance I'd be flying solo after two years of being her wing man in a village surrounded by airfields.

I patted my neck dry with my handkerchief before we went into the hall. Our first stop was the cloak room followed by a visit to the ladies so we could repair our make up. Powder blotted up the last of my "glow" and, if I do say so myself, with extra lipstick and liner, I was looking pretty good.

Mother made her entrance ahead of me and was quickly caught up in her social circle. Bunny found me soon after and bought me a gin and tonic at the bar.

"You look smashing!" he said. "Give us a twirl. You have a real talent with the needle, Jo."

I gave him a peck on the cheek. "And you're the best friend a girl could have."

"You aren't wrong there, sweetie. I have a tall, dark handsome fly-boy who wants to meet you. He's new to our squadron and I promised to introduce him to the most charming girl in the village."

I was immediately suspicious. Although the ratio of men to girls was such that I never lacked a dance partner, handsome pilots were actively sought after. Bunny was right, though. He was tall and quite good looking in boyish way. He was also American.

"Jack here is an ex-pat," Bunny explained. "He volunteer for the RAF while the rest of the Yanks were sitting on their thumbs."

"My mother is English," said Jack. "War bride from the war that was supposed to end all wars."

I liked him immediately.

"Wanna dance?"

I let Jack lead me to the floor. He really knew how to cut a rug and I was glowing again. At this point, I would have excused myself to powder my nose and remove my stockings. Silk was needed for parachutes so stockings were a precious commodity. However, last dance, without my stockings to hold it in place, my roll-on rolled up and snapped my dance partner on the hand. I did not want that happening again. Besides, the band was playing a slow waltz and Jack had his arm around me again.

It was a magic evening. I didn't dance with Jack again that first set, but he was always nearby when the music stopped. When the band took a break and my mother was persuaded (as she always was) to play a few songs on the piano, Jack suggested we take a walk in the fresh air.

"Look at that moon," said Jack.

I looked. It was full and partially covered with clouds. "Pretty."

"Pretty spooky," said Jack. "Have you ever noticed that the moon always looks like that in horror movies? If they show a moon like that in the sky, you know something weird is about to happen. A werewolf will howl. A ghost will flit across the moor..."

"If it's a werewolf movie, there has to be a full moon," I pointed out. "That's when the werewolf turns."

"Fair enough. But ghosts and goblins and mummies don't need a full moon. Vampires make sense though."

"Why's that?"

"Have you seen Dracula? Wolves and werewolves are the vampire's creatures of the night."

A neighbourhood dog howled. I shivered.

"Cold?"

"A little."

He took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, leaving his arm there. I suddenly felt much warmer.

"You like horror pics?"

"Love them." Jack leaned his head toward me. "Sometime I think it would be wonderful to have supernatural powers. Vampires have it made."

"They can't go out in the sun."

"But they have super reflexes and strength.They also can't be killed by bullets and they can turn into mist when in danger."

I could see the attraction that would be for a fighter pilot who's life expectancy was something I tried not to think about. I lifted my face to look at this lovely boy who I might never see again after tonight. Jack took that as an invitation to kiss me.

A few moments later, slightly breathless, I said, "I can see the attraction of being vampire, but I wouldn't want to give up G&Ts for blood."

"Not a problem."

Jack dipped his head and I lifted mine for another kiss, but he nuzzled my neck instead. It was lovely until I felt two sharp points against my skin.

"No!" I screeched and pushed him away. Turning so fast I almost lost my shoe, I ran back toward the hall. Jack was calling out to me, but I was too scared to stop and listen.

I dashed straight to the powder room and checked my neck in the mirror. No bite marks but there were two crescent shaped divots... fingernail marks.

Forcing myself to be calm, I powdered my nose and applied fresh lipstick. Later, when Jack found me and tried to explain, I laughed and told him I knew it was a joke all along. Silently, I hoped I'd never see him again.

And I didn't.

Pity.

This story is based on a true one told by my mother. However, I have no idea what happened to the fellow who pulled the trick on her, or even if he was a pilot. I trust he didn't die as a result of narrative causality.

Alison Bruce has had
many careers and writing has always been one of them. Copywriter, editor and
graphic designer since 1992, Alison has also been a comic book store manager,
small press publisher, webmaster and arithmetically challenged bookkeeper. She
is the author of mystery, suspense and historical western romance novels.

Friday, August 1, 2014

I didn’t want to go. Summer without friends would suck. Boredom would kill me for sure.

“But, Mom, there’s nothing to do on that forsaken island.”

“You’ll be going to visit your grandmother and I don’t want to hear another peep out of you.”

Those words sealed my fate that summer.

I’d never been to Mackinaw Island. Nothing Google couldn’t fix. A few searches later I learned the island was up in northern Michigan in Lake Huron and was a popular tourist attraction. Maybe I could create an interesting adventure for myself.

The dreary mist started the minute I got off the boat on the island and I sank into my grandmother’s open arms. When I pulled away I noticed gorgeous blue eyes staring at me.

“Granma,” I whispered. “Who is that boy?” But when she turned he had disappeared.

My mission: to find the guy and discover his story.

Grandma lived on a hill in a stunning Victorian home overlooking the clear blue waters of Huron. The island was amazing.

The cool breeze coming from the lake had me pulling on the sweatshirt I brought with me to make grandma happy.

“Pumpkin, it’s pretty chilly on the island,” she had said, sending me back up stairs to get a sweater.

In the storage room I found a brand new five-speed bike—corral, my favorite color.

A little tag hung from the handle bar. I pulled it off. It read: Enjoy the island, Grandma. How sweet! Mom had told me the best way to get around the island was biking. Rolling it out on the brick sidewalk, I hopped on, pedaling away. Not wanting to be in the center of town, where all the confusion and tourists hung out watching a few stores make fudge, I rolled the opposite way, finding myself on a quiet road next to sandy beaches. Stopping, I decided to sit on the white sand and contemplate the blue waters.

From out of nowhere, so it seemed, the guy I’d see when I arrived, stood to the side watching me. His eyes bluer than the ocean never left my face.

I stood and walked over, but as I got closer he seemed to float away. The distance between us was always the same. He never moved his feet. My heartbeat so hard he could hear it from where he stood. How could this be possible?

“Why are you doing this to me?”

I looked him over and took a step back. Just about then, I should have turned around and run. He didn’t have a solid form. No way. Ghosts don’t exist. Rubbing my eyes didn’t help.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.”

My eyes opened so wide they could have fallen out of their sockets.

He extended a hand.

Did he really think I would take it? Utterly crazy! Anyway, I was frozen in place. Never had I felt so much fear.

Those eyes, though, were so hypnotic I couldn’t look away. The blue streamed from his eyes to surround me in a surreal dim light. The sand disappeared, engulfed by a blue void. Nothing was left.

“Come, I won’t hurt you.” His lips never moved.

At last, I found my voice. It shook. “What…are…you?”

“Don’t worry about technicalities. Come with me.”

He moved closer and without realizing it, my hand was in his.

A gentle breeze swept my caramel hair away from my face.

“We’re moving!” I pivoted to grab a fist full of his shirt.

“Relax.”

When all the blue hue vanished, the sky had a lemony yellow tint to it, the trees, taller than any I’d ever seen, touched the sky with deep green leaves.

Nothing seemed real. “Where are we?”

“In my world.”

“I don’t understand.”

He looked at me with sad blue eyes. “In your world I’m invisible, but here I’m real, I can touch you.” And he did. He caressed my check with feather light fingers. A chill ran down my spine. “I’ve watched you for a while hoping to get a chance like this to show myself to you.”

I had no idea what to make of it. For all I knew I was in bed dreaming.

He took me in his embrace. Soft, warm lips caressed mine. His breath filled my nostrils with a spicy scent. One hand moved up and down my back, in slow motion.

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the beach, alone.

I never spoke of my encounter, believing that if I didn’t talk about it, it never really happened. Whenever I closed my eyes I still felt his lips on mime. It took me several days before courage urged me back to the beach. It was the first time I was alone since the first encounter. The beach looked safe that day, so I ventured to sit on the white sand once more. The water was blue and so clear. Not a wave disturbed the lake.

Movement caught my eye and, looking to the side, there he was once again, moving toward me.

Without a word he sat beside me and took my hand in his, kissing it.

“It’s amazing how you’ve never noticed me at school.”

“We go to the same school?”

“Godwin High.”

I turned away ashamed that popularity had turned me so blind.

His arm wrapped around my shoulder and I leaned my head against his chest, as my heart fluttered.

He tilted my chin upward, brushing my lips with his.

It wasn’t my first kiss, but it certainly made me feel different. Twisting in his arms, I brought mine around his neck. He pulled me on his lap.

The joy of our encounters lasted the whole summer

Pulling away he asked, “When we go back to school, will you still ignore me?”

My head still spun from making out. All I could do was stare and shake my head no.

Staring in the mirror, I liked what I saw. The new high-waisted shorts looked amazing with the sheer, flowy tops. Mom wouldn’t let me out of the house with it, so I wore a black cami underneath.

I arrived early on purpose and sat outside, waiting. Sure enough, those blue eyes appeared and he came toward me with a big smile.

Annamaria Bazzi spent twenty years programming systems for large
corporations, creating innovative solution, and addressing customer
problems. During those years she raised four daughters and one husband.
Annamaria lives in Richmond Virginia with her small family where she now
dedicates a good part of her day writing.